Stuck inside a venue with the Dylan blues again

Obsessive fandom is part of growing up: the poster-covered bedroom, the graffiti-scrawled exercise books, the hanging onto a musician's every utterance. What can be made of such behaviour when it is displayed by middle-aged Bob Dylan acolytes?

At the weekend, the day after his huge concert at the O2 arena, Dylan staged a "fans-only" concert at the London Roundhouse. Open only to those 'Bobists' who regularly visit his official website, the unseated show was intimate by any standards. Security was tight, tickets were to be collected in person, and wristbands had to be worn by all attending. Doors opened at 7pm, but queueing began at 11am. Sitting on the grubby Chalk Farm pavement for eight hours was, apparently, a small price to pay for proximity to Him.

With show time approaching, the Dylan fans fiercely guarded their patches. I saw at least three fights break out. "I've been queuing for hours to get this spot and you're not going in front of me," barked one man, as an upstart brazenly attempted to squeeze past. Others were prepared to commit the crime of pushing to the front. Such acts were met with resistance as balding Bobists adopted bodybuilder stances.

It's worth remembering a lyric from the title track of Slow Train Coming, I thought: "They talk about a life of brotherly love/ show me someone who knows how to live it," sings Dylan. All can say to that is: quite. SIMMY RICHMAN